


Wax on, wax off

by Allthephils



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, joshua tree, solo phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 13:04:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19888303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allthephils/pseuds/Allthephils
Summary: Phil alone by the poolI wrote this forthoughtfullightcollectionIt was intended to be an introspective desert fic but it turned into solo Phil smut. Oops. Happy Birthday!





	Wax on, wax off

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thoughtfullightcollection](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoughtfullightcollection/gifts).



> Come say hi on Tumblr @allthephils

Phil thought there would be howling coyotes, screeching owls, and chirping crickets. He’d prepared himself for the frightening skitter of tiny lizard feet. He had not prepared himself for this kind of quiet, a silence that screams it’s stillness all around him, unavoidable. It’s beautiful here but so expansive, never ending, and so hot that the air presses in from all sides. VidCon exhausted his social reserves. Las Vegas will be yet another onslaught. The ghost towns and quirky truck stops were his favorite part so far but this part, just relaxing in nature, that doesn’t come so easy. He’s meant to be resetting, renewing, taking time alone out here. Dan went off to strip out of his poor clothing choices and shower. Martyn and Cornelia have long since disappeared but he can hear their chatter and Corn’s musical laughter every so often. 

The ground is hard under Phil’s back but his feet hang over the edge of the pool, slowly kicking back and forth through the too blue water, still visible in the bright moonlight. That’s one thing, the moon. It’s full and bright, illuminating in ways it just doesn’t in London. The stars are dull, hidden behind the veil of light. He counts as many as he can, tracing shapes with his finger tip stretched out in front of him. He thinks he spots a planet or two. 

Somewhere behind him, he hears the shower turn on. Phil had rushed through his, feeling oddly exposed in the bright morning but showering under the stars doesn’t sound too bad. Dan must be loving it, surrounded by the night sky, under a spray of cool water. What a perfectly pretentious end to a day spent wearing £300 joggers in 40 degree heat. He’ll be lathering up by now. Rubbing that cruelty free, organic jasmine body wash over his sweat soaked skin. An absent minded hand finds it way to Phil’s open collar, scratching gently through the soft hair there. With an image of a soapy Dan in mind, he fingers a button open, then another and another until he’s wriggling his shirt down his shoulders and tossing it aside. 

As oppressive as the heat is, it does bring some gifts. Dan’s pretty legs, shaved smooth, pale but somehow still golden made an appearance yesterday. Phil remembers running his hand up a slim calf, he can practically feel Dan’s warm skin as he drags his fingers down over his own belly, teasing past his waist band slightly before flattening his hand and feeling the skin, muscles rippling as he lifts his head to watch. 

Dan’s probably got his head thrown back, watching the stars as he washes. He probably has a hand on his inner thigh, idly reaching fingers to stroke the skin behind his balls. Phil’s hand has made it’s way over his rib cage to his chest now. The swirling heat just under the surface has nothing to do with the desert, prickling up his thighs and behind his nipples. He grazes over a one sensitive nub, gasps just a bit and moves straight to pinching and rolling, his other hand shooting down to unbutton his shorts. Sweat and heat are irrelevent to Phil if it means he can press his body to Dan’s but Dan won’t want to fuck in this heat. Sex tends to override discomfort for Phil. It also overrides propriety, good judgement, and modesty but that’s neither here nor there. There doesn’t seem any good reason to deny himself this. Everyone else is occupied and he is meant to be relaxing. 

For a brief moment, he reconsiders calling out for Dan, or getting up to go join him in the shower. He’s so good to himself though, no one is better at touching Phil than Phil, not even Dan. And he’s rather settled here, just warm enough with his feet in the pool, perfectly acclimated. His body says stay a while, get comfy, keep going, and Phil is never one to deny his body a craving. Lifting his hips, he shoves his shorts and pants down in one motion before wrapping a hand around himself. He’s half hard but the idea of open air around his cock has it filling his grip completely. 

His hands are lazy. A low electric current runs through his fingertips, leaving his skin dewy and buzzing with every touch. _Yeah. Touch my cock. Fuck._ Words whispered to himself through crooked, quirked up, self aware lips. Words that push the hum of arousal until his slow tease becomes a torture and he gives in. Thoughts roll through his mind, half formed and disjointed, moving from fantasy to memory and finally to simple here and now reality. There is no one for miles and Phil’s cock is beautiful moving in and out of his fist. Nothing wrong with finding your own cock beautiful. He can’t deny what so many have told him. It’s long and perfectly straight, deep pink and shining at the tip where it slips past his foreskin. 

His breath catches and his thumb finds a rhythm, flicking over a nipple in time with his stroking hand. His eyes slip shut but he forces them open. Seeing actual stars when he cums is too good an opportunity to pass up. He giggles a bit at the thought. Tension builds in his gut and his strokes speed up, losing coordination in a deliciously desperate surge toward release. There are splashes from the shower and Phil’s imagination runs wild. Maybe in the morning, he’ll push his nipples against the smooth wet wood, arching his back so Dan can fuck him silly before breakfast. 

He gives his nipple a break to free up a hand, running through his hair with a tug before moving his hand down to cup and massage his balls while he jacks himself fast and hard. He sees naked Dan on an ass shaped rock, he sees Chris Hemsworth on his knees, he sees himself, half naked on the ground, feet in the pool, cock in his hand. That’s the image that does it. Narcissism is underrated. He tries to be quiet but a groan escapes, eyes squeezed shut, as he makes a terrible mess of his own belly. 

He’s alone and sticky and smiling in the dark. It’s nearly midnight and the shower is still running. Maybe Dan had the same idea. Now they can climb in to bed and just cuddle. That sounds too good to resist so after only a moment of afterglow, he stands, stepping out of his shorts and shoes and walking naked into the sliding door that goes straight to their room. When he opens the shower door Dan looks dreamy and tired, spent and happy. He looks Phil up and down and lets out a raucous laugh. 

“I see you’ve been taking your self care seriously,” He says, smirking. “I was afraid you were coming in here to get frisky.”

“Frisky?” Phil cocks his brow, “Ok grandpa, I figured you’d be too tired after today anyway.”

“Not tired at all.” Dan answers, “but you’re clearly all used up.”

“Is that a challenge?”

A high pitched ha! echos in the night. “You’re filthy. Covered in cum and already asking for more.” He’s attempting derision but only achieving a kind of fond reprimand. “You aren’t a teenager anymore Phil, I don’t think you have it in you.”

Phil steps into the shower and kisses Dan, soft enough to make him shudder, hard enough to make his knees weak. Spinning Dan around quickly, he pushes him into the wall and lays his body over him, Dan’s giggles bouncing off the shower walls. Phil kisses behind his ear and whispers there. “Let’s test that theory, yeah?”

  
  



End file.
